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“Fans of Lackey’s epic Valdemar series will devour this superb anthology. Of the thirteen stories included, there is no weak link—an attribute exceedingly rare in collections of this sort. Highly recommended.”

“This high-quality anthology mixes pieces by experienced authors and enthusiastic fans of editor Lackey’s Valdemar. Valdemar fandom, especially, will revel in this sterling example of what such a mixture of fans’ and pros’ work can be. Engrossing even for newcomers to Valdemar.”

“Josepha Sherman, Tanya Huff, Mickey Zucker Reichert, and Michelle West have quite good stories, and there’s another by Lackey herself. Familiarity with the series helps but is not a prerequisite to enjoying this book.”

“Each tale adheres to the Lackey laws of the realm yet provides each author’s personal stamp on the story. Well written and fun, Valdemarites will especially appreciate the magic of this book.”

“The sixth collection set in Lackey’s world of Valdemar presents stories of Heralds and their telepathic horselike Companions and of Bards and Healers, and provides glimpses of the many other aspects of a setting that has a large and avid readership. The fifteen original tales in this volume will appeal to series fans.”

THE HERALDS OF VALDEMAR

ARROWS OF THE QUEEN

ARROW’S FLIGHT

ARROW’S FALL

THE LAST HERALD-MAGE

MAGIC’S PAWN

MAGIC’S PROMISE

MAGIC’S PRICE

THE MAGE WINDS

WINDS OF FATE

WINDS OF CHANGE

WINDS OF FURY

THE MAGE STORMS

STORM WARNING

STORM RISING

STORM BREAKING

VOWS AND HONOR

THE OATHBOUND

OATHBREAKERS

OATHBLOOD

THE COLLEGIUM CHRONICLES

FOUNDATION

INTRIGUES

CHANGES

REDOUBT

BASTION

THE HERALD SPY

CLOSER TO HOME

CLOSER TO THE HEART

CLOSER TO THE CHEST

FAMILY SPIES

THE HILLS HAVE SPIES

EYE SPY

SPY, SPY AGAIN

BY THE SWORD

BRIGHTLY BURNING

TAKE A THIEF

EXILE’S HONOR

EXILE’S VALOR

VALDEMAR ANTHOLOGIES:

SWORD OF ICE

SUN IN GLORY

CROSSROADS

MOVING TARGETS

CHANGING THE WORLD

FINDING THE WAY

UNDER THE VALE

NO TRUE WAY

CRUCIBLE

TEMPEST

PATHWAYS

CHOICES

SEASONS

PASSAGES

Written with LARRY DIXON:

THE MAGE WARS

THE BLACK GRYPHON

THE WHITE GRYPHON

THE SILVER GRYPHON

DARIAN’S TALE

OWLFLIGHT

OWLSIGHT

OWLKNIGHT

GWENHWYFAR

THE BLACK SWAN

JOUST

ALTA

SANCTUARY

AERIE

THE SERPENT’S SHADOW

THE GATES OF SLEEP

PHOENIX AND ASHES

THE WIZARD OF LONDON

RESERVED FOR THE CAT

UNNATURAL ISSUE

HOME FROM THE SEA

STEADFAST

BLOOD RED

FROM A HIGH TOWER

A STUDY IN SABLE

A SCANDAL IN BATTERSEA

THE BARTERED BRIDES

THE CASE OF THE SPELLBOUND CHILD

JOLENE

Anthologies:

ELEMENTAL MAGIC

ELEMENTARY

And don’t miss THE VALDEMAR COMPANION edited by John Helfers and Denise Little

:I can see you, you know.:

Uselessly, Rosia tucked herself deeper into the thicket in which she had taken refuge, as though doing so might turn her invisible if she only wished hard enough.

The dulcet voice went on, inexorable. :You look nice!:

A choked sound emerged from the girl, comprising disgust and—in spite of herself—laughter, albeit without much mirth. Nice? She looked nice ? After weeks on the road, wending ever deeper into the wilds of the Pelagir Hills; without money even to eat half the time, let alone bathe; dressed in ragged garments that were now hopelessly soiled and torn and had never been nice even when new.

:Perhaps it isn’t the way you look so much as the way you smell,: conceded her pursuer, the words coming somehow from inside her own head. She might conclude she had gone mad and was talking to herself, save that the bright white horse, with its silvery bridle and its bells and its wide, friendly eyes, had been following her for hours; and every observation made, in those mellow tones, was accompanied by some hopeful movement. This time, it was a nuzzling at the branches of Rosia’s friendly thicket. One clear blue eye peeped in.

“That’s even worse,” Rosia said. “If I could only get away from my own smell, I would.”

A pause followed. Rosia received the impression that the horse was thinking.

:No, you’re right,: came the reply. :It isn’t a vision or a scent but a . . . feeling. You feel nice.:

Rosia, exhausted and hungry and despairing, swallowed a sob. “Why won’t you go away?”

:Because I’m lonely.:

“So? Find another friend.”

:But I like you.:

“Who wouldn’t,” Rosia muttered, clenching her fists. “When I’ve been so friendly.”

:I am your Companion,: said the horse. :That is the best friend anybody could have.:

“I don’t need a companion.” And I don’t deserve one, Rosia thought.

The horse lay down on the other side of the thicket, clearly prepared to wait all day if necessary. :I am here anyway, my Chosen.:

Rosia briefly thought of running away, but the horse would only follow. “Why are you so stubborn?” she said instead, hating the whining quality of the question. She was an adult —or nearly, anyway. Adults didn’t whine.

The horse lipped at a scrubby thread of grass. :I am your Companion.:

“You said that already.”

Rosia received a sense of warm amusement, like . . . a giggle. Her Companion , if she was such, was too young for sober dignity. :For some reason, I got the idea you weren’t listening,: she said. :My name is Lilan.:

Rosia sat up as far as she was able, ignoring the tangle of thorns in her hair, and folded her arms.

:And you are . . . ?: prompted Lilan.

“Rosia,” the name ungraciously muttered under her breath. “Peddler.” Thief. “And a girl who talks to horses, looks like.”

:I am not a horse,: said Lilan patiently. :A Companion is something else altogether.:

“I know what you are. You think I haven’t seen Heralds?” Rosia had no intention of telling this peculiar creature what kinds of feelings she’d witnessed at the passage of Valdemar’s Chosen. In their immaculate Whites, with their Companions at their sides, they’d blown through Rosia’s life like a fresh, bright wind, untouchably distant. Unfathomably magnificent.